


caged

by ladyofstarfall



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Gen, Lyanna was a child tricked into into being an incubator, No this wasn’t a love story, R Plus L Equals J, Rhaegar Bashing, Spiteful af, Suicidal Thoughts, anti-Rhaegar, because some inbred prince couldn’t let go of a fucking prophecy, suicide TW, that ruined so many lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 20:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16204949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofstarfall/pseuds/ladyofstarfall
Summary: Lyanna Stark was a wolf and a wolf cannot be caged.





	caged

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this on a whim because I was sick of all the stories that portray Lyanna as some helpeless maiden who ran away to be with her tru luv. This girl had a iron will and would’ve fought tooth and nail to get free, and you’re telling me she WANTED to be imprisoned while her family was being slaughtered? Okay fandom, okay.

_let it out_

_so it can breathe_

* * *

 Lyanna Stark screams in agony. Blackened rose petals flutter from the linen as she strains against the maids holding her down. So much blood, so much pain. Yet all she wants is to see her brother. Quiet, honorable Ned who was within reach of her reddened fingers.

Rhaegar had fallen in battle. Some sickened, joyful feeling churns beneath her pain. That bastard who put her here in the first place… Charming Lyanna Stark with honeyed words of freedom and a life she could only dream of now. Instead she's stowed away in a tower for months, her patience long gone.

(“When will we leave?” Lyanna demands one hot day, her bump only beginning to show itself. She's restless and angry, watching as the prince takes one of her hands in his own.

“Soon.” Rhaegar promises, kissing her knuckles. “Now is not the time for us to go, my love.”

Disgusted, she yanks her hand away. “You told me that months ago! You said we would go to the Free Cities and be free!” Her wolf blood boils and there's satisfaction at the flicker of unease in the prince’s eyes.

“We will remain here until I say otherwise.” Rhaegar clips.)

But now he lay dead in cold, cold waters by her former betrothed’s hand. Would things have been different if she stayed after all?

Let me see him. I want to see him!

“Let… me… GO!” she snarls like some deranged animal. Snapping and rabid and so much like a wolf. Her anger only made the pain worse but she is desperate now. Months of being locked away against her own will when he promised her freedom. 

“The babe has not come out, milady!” One of the maids pleads with her. The middle aged one with the Rhyonish features and gentle eyes. Lyanna remembers talking to her on occasion out of bitter loneliness. “Please calm yourself or you’ll —”

“EDDARD!” Wild, willful Lyanna Stark still fights even at the cusp of childbirth. She gives little thought to the babe who drained her like a parasite. Instead screams for a brother she knows is here, crying his name as swords clash and blue petals litter her chamber floor. Those damn flowers Rhaegar had given her, in hopes it would null her restlessness. Lyanna’d torn the petals from each stock, ripping them apart until her fingertips bled from the thorns. A childish act of rebellion against her lover who’d taken to a separate room after this.

Or was it the guard Lyanna had slit the throat of that made Rhaegar uneasy? Word had gotten to Lyanna of Father and Brandon’s deaths. Slain by Rhaegar’s mad father in their attempt to bring her home. She’d fallen to her knees and cried long into the hot, desert nights. Cried until it was enough, and the dagger smuggled neatly under her pillow was thrust into the man’s sinewy neck. She’d only gotten to the tower doors when Rhaegar’s men surrounded her. They forced her back, kicking and screaming, to her lonely chambers she could not stand to be in any longer.

(“You are making this exceedingly difficult!” He's enraged and showing some shred of emotion. Bless the gods she's able to do this, to crack his delusional shell. Anything to spite the beloved prince who's taken so much from her.

Lyanna spits in Rhaegar Targaryen’s face. There is still blood on her hands and on her pretty blue gown. “You lied to me…USED me! My father and brother are dead because of you!” Her bump is more prominent and the only thing that seems to matter to him. “All this bloodshed is not worth some inane prophecy!”

Rhaegar’s face darkens. “You assume I wanted bloodshed? I did not think your family would react this way —”

“THEY WERE MURDERED BY YOURS!” She lunges for him but Ser Arthur Dayne shields the hysterical Northern maid from his prince. “I didn't want this — I didn't want anyone to get hurt…!” Lyranna suddenly feels weak, her grief for her family and all else numbing her rage. She slackens in Arthur Dayne’s steely grip and cries. “I just want to go home. Please let me go home.” At that moment, she realizes how much of a child she really was. Stupidly naive and impulsive.

Her former lover looks down, his handsome face once so enchanting to her, void of nothing but a frown. “Escort her back to her chambers.” He tells his loyal friend.

She screams as she's dragged away, “My brother will come for me and he will kill you!”

Rhaegar does not look back at her. He sits by his harp and plucks the strings as Lyanna’s enraged screams echo through the tower.)

There were times Lyanna had thought to end it all, to plunge a sword through her stomach and slowly bleed out in her bed of roses. But something always stopped her and now she's here. In so much pain, in so much regret and anger… Birthing a child she never wanted for a prophecy that's brought so much bloodshed.

Then it suddenly seems to vanish. There's a odd, purple thing screaming nearby but she pays no mind. Exhaustion takes over and Lyanna’s cries dwindle to a soft sob of her brother’s name. Red stains her linen and through her gown. There was no staunching her torn womb, no cold cloths to numb the growing heat in her. She feels so dizzy and so tired…

(Her babe is apparently a boy. She catches bits and pieces of the woman’s words, how healthy and robust he is. It seems Rhaegar didn't get his Visenya after all.)

“Ned.” She whispers aloud. Her babe is still wailing in the background and she catches her maids mumbling worriedly amongst themselves. The Rhyonish lady stays at her bedside, dabbing the wolf maid’s forehead with a damp cloth. With no maester to help her, little Lyanna Stark bleeds out in her bed of roses after all. Irony, she thinks in her deluded mind, the fever latching it's teeth into her. Would Ned make it to her after all? Will she die before seeing him one more time?

I'm going to die. Lyanna thinks and has no strength in her to cry. The blood keeps rushing and she burns hotter. I deserve this. I deserve to die alone far, far from home for what I've done. The gods’ punishment for willful Lyanna who was so desperate to live her own life, to do something she wanted no matter how selfish it was. She thinks of Elia Martell and her little children, wondering if she’d brought death upon them as well. Lyanna wishes she could apologize to the princess about everything she’s done. All the hurt, all the pain she brought.

 _I_ _did_ _not_ _want_ _any_ _of_ _this_.

Her babe is quiet now. Lyanna’s staring at nothing, her grip of life loosening with every ebb of pain in her lower stomach. There's no light in her gray eyes, no flicker of the strength she hung onto these nine months.

 _Ned._ _Ned_ _please_ _come_ _for_ _me._ Tears drop down her pale cheeks, the sounds of battle gone. She thinks she hears footsteps outside her door, wondering if Rhaegar’s men triumphed and slew her brother into the sand. Her chamber door is thrown open and in her haze she thinks she sees her Ned calling her name. A weak hand rose from her soiled bed and cracked lips part.

“Ned? Is that you?” she whispers, feeling a bigger hand cup her own.

“It's me.” Another smooths back her sweaty hair from her forehead and Lyanna suddenly wants to cry. “I'm here, Lya.”

“You're not a dream?” Her eyelids flicker.

“No I'm not a dream. I'm here, right here.” Ned assures her, tightening his grip on her hand. Oh sweet, quiet Ned made it. He's here and she's not alone after all. “I'm so sorry.” Lyanna wept to him, her head lolling on her pillow. “I did not want any of this to happen… I wanted to go home but… he wouldn't let me. He kept me here, Ned. He kept me here and locked me away and I —”

Ned quiets her rambling. “You can come home now, Lya. Come home and see Benjen with me. He's missed you.”

 _Oh_ _sweet_ _Ned_. They know she wasn't going to make it back to Winterfell. As much as Lyanna yearns to see it again, she cannot hold on any longer. There's a soft whimpering nearby and she remembers. As much as she resents the child, Lyanna could not bare the thought of someone harming him.

“The babe… Robert will kill him. Promise me you'll take him and protect him. He deserves that… much.”

Ned looks back at the cradle, his gray eyes widening. “Lya…”

She shakes her head and silences her brother. “Promise me you'll protect him. Take us back to Winterfell and lay me next to Brandon and Father.” Lyanna rushes on, the pain becoming too much now. “I want to be… with them.” He's struggling and she is fading. “Promise me, Ned… promise me.”

“I promise,” her older brother chokes, bringing her cold hand to his lips. Lyanna sighs contently, relaxing into the bedding as her eyelids flutter. There is a light she can see somewhere, growing as she inches closerand all the blood, all the pain begins to fade. She tries to form words but it is so warm. Warm and welcoming from the agony she's gone through. She thinks she hears Brandon calling her name… Father too?

 _I_ _love_ _you,_ _Eddard._

…

Lyanna Stark dies in her brother’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m really proud of how this came out.


End file.
